Trail buddy and Big G's mom have both gone out of town.  This has left me with the semi-care of four ponies, including my regular 1.5.  (By shear size, I contest that Ox should be equivalent to a horse and a half.)

They say that absences makes the heart grow fonder.  I prefer La Rouchefauld's version better:  absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, like the wind blows out the candle but blows up the bonfire.  I mean, roughly.  French and all.

But I guess abscesses do, too!

 I was taken aback by the intense pleasure I felt when I hopped on Ox last night for the first time in a month.  His abscess blew at the coronet band and he had his shoes replaced.  He's not 100%, so the work is light, but he's a million times better than he was.  But my surprise was that I thought I liked this horse.  And now I realize that I adore this horse and that bond of trust that I wanted so badly has already started developing.

Hey.

Trying to capture his post-alfalfa cubed muzzle.

Ox will whinny to me in the pasture.  Having treats consistently helps, but it still tweaks my heart.  There are no issues haltering him, leading him, or, with a month off, asking him to mosey on under saddle.  While communication with Archie will always be infinitely better than any other horse, I feel almost like Ox and I are getting there.  We're at least speaking the same language now.

I like music just as much as the next person.  Okay, maybe a little less.  And maybe my tastes run towards weirder shit.  Harmonicas.  Metal.  Scream-o.  Folk bands.  Banjos and rhythm.

But the hubs loves music.  Hence the trip to NYC.  And also the reason for our mini-vacation this week.

We dropped the girls off at the kennel, ate breakfast at a little local place and proceeded to drive the easy two hours to Charleston, where we immediately went to the beach.  Then it was checking into the hotel, relaxing a little bit, and heading out to the little shopping areas downtown.

My legs blend in with the sand.

I convinced the hubs that we needed ice cream for a late lunch, since we'd be having an early dinner.  And wouldn't you know it, the distillery next door was offering a tour and tasting fifteen minutes after we got our ice cream.  I couldn't have planned it better if I'd tried.

Whipped cream, espresso, salted caramel, whiskey pecan and "Savannah Buttermint".  Amazing.

Shitfuck, guys.  I am a beer drinker.  Barf.

Back to the hotel to pick up the car and then a German dinner spot, a little more shopping, and the Dave Matthews Band concert.  D is a huge DMB fan.  I kinda-sorta know the songs that hit the radio.

Kasen spaetzle and a kale/quinoa burger, topped with swiss cheese, fried onions and an egg.  Delicious.

Why do my fingers look so creepy long?

That's Dave.  I'm pretty sure.

We dropped the car back off at the hotel and went to a little bar, where I taught the hubs the two steps of salsa that I know and forced him to dance with me.  He's going to find himself the victim of a groupon lesson one of these days.

The next day, we had amazing biscuits at place called Callie's Hot Little Biscuits.  Then we ventured out to all three tack stores in the area.   I was specifically looking for tall, zip-up field boots to replace mine that have died (no luck), venice turpentine for Ox (luck), and a new halter for Archie (no luck).  I also snagged a new crop, because it was $4, a used dressage girth (Lettia Coolmax, $20), some bell boots and some Sore No More Gelotion.  Then it was lunch and a drive home, during which I slept.  :)